Not A Snog Box!
by Queen of the Beasties
Summary: After accidentally bumping into two people from the Doctor's future, Jamie pokes fun at the Doctor for something they overhear his future companion accuse the TARDIS of being. They also get a surprise visitor on the snog b- ahem, TARDIS!


"For the hundredth time, you hairy legged highlander!" snapped the Doctor exasperatedly, pounding on the console in annoyance at his companion's snickering. "My TARDIS is _not_ a…_snog box_, or whatever nonsense you keep calling it! I don't care what you heard that young lady say back there!"

"But, Doctor, you heard as well as I. And you've got to admit, she was a pretty lassie, and that man you said was to be you one day coudnae take his eyes of her, could he?" Jamie nudged the Doctor playfully in the ribs, and added, "Or, should I say, _you_ couldn't take your eyes off her!"

"All the same," said the Doctor evenly, albeit with an air of brimming impatience, "My TARDIS is a sophisticated piece of machinery, designed for the scientific exploration of knowledge, _not_ for canoodling at the console!"

"Whatever you say, Doctor," said Jamie, although he continued to grin like the cheshire cat himself. As he sauntered off to the kitchen to get himself some supper, he began to whistle to a tune that sounded curiously like "I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now."

The Doctor looked after him, unamused, and suspicious as to where the boy had picked it up in the first place. He made a mental note to start keeping his futuristic possessions out of Jamie's reach - most notably his MP3 player.

The Doctor thought back to his and Jamie's surprise encounter as the Scotsman shut the door, leaving him alone in the console room. The two young people they had bumped, quite literally, into on their trip to Darbodia the Doctor had very quickly deduced had to be from his own future; the man's taste in fashion could only ever be recognized as his own. The bow tie and suspenders alone gave it away like a big flashing arrow, as well as the uniquely fond yet sad look his future self had given Jamie that could only have come from one person. The young man never said it himself, but the brief look that they shared before shooing along their respective companions had been enough; Never a good idea to get a glimpse into your own future, even if it walks smack into you in the middle of an intergalactic subway station.

As for the girl, she couldn't have been much older than Victoria. Despite this, she stood with her head high, projecting a sense of maturity and an air of leadership that had the Doctor himself questioning for the brief moment he had seen her which of the two was really in charge. It was only shortly after they had gone on their way - after a hurried conversation that involved mostly shushing and I'll-explain-laters to companions on both past and future Doctor's parts - that the Time Lord had overheard the carrying voice of his future companion mutter, "Well, it appears that it's not just the girls you take into your snog box, then, Doctor!" to which his future self hissed, "Stop it! _It is not a snog box_!" And Jamie had refused to let the matter go ever since.

Just as the Doctor was assessing exactly how much he would object to his TARDIS someday becoming used for such a practice, he heard a sound like a rush of air in his ear, and, jumping in surprise, he spun around on his heel to see that a woman was now standing in the room with him, someone he did not recognize.

Not yet, anyway.

She was tall and curvy and had a head of neverending hair that was all curls. On her wrist was an odd sort of watch that had all of her attention, up until the point when the Doctor yelled something to the effect of, "What in blazes?! Who? How! Where…? Who are you and what are you doing in my TARDIS?"

The woman glanced up, then did a double take and stepped back slightly, as if she were the one who was supposed to be surprised. She recovered rather quickly, expressing a confident, casual expression.

"Whoops. Sorry, sweetie," she said to him, returning to her odd-looking watch. "Seems I must've got the right coordinates but the wrong time." She tapped at the device, then looked over at the Doctor once again. "Which one are you, then?"

"Which one am I?" repeated the Doctor rather loudly, who was not nearly as relaxed as his visitor seemed to be. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean!"

"Ooh, must be an earlier one, then. Third today, I'm afraid." She slapped the watch-like gadget on her wrist, as if it were the cause of her troubles. "How many regenerations have you gone through?"

"Well, one, madam, if you must know, and I don't intend on going through any more, thank you very much! Nasty, uncomfortable things, they are!"

"That they are," said the visitor, who then gave him a smile that made the Doctor suddenly feeling oddly uncomfortable, but not in the way a regeneration had ever made him feel. "Well, can't stay and chat, I'm afraid. I've got a date I simply can't be late for, so if you don't mind…"

Trailing off, the woman stepped up to the console and, reaching past the Doctor, began to type in coordinates without hesitation, as if she owned the place. The Time Lord resisted the urge to slap away her hand, as had become a habit with Jamie, somehow afraid of what the consequences might be if he did.

Whoever this strange woman was, the Doctor couldn't say. Nor could he place the feeling she gave him as he watched her fingers dance across his console like a practiced pianist.

"I'll use the TARDIS to shift me forward in time a few hundred years," she said as she worked. "A bit more reliable than this old thing." She gestured again to the watch her wrist. "I've already bumped into the wrong you twice. One was rather nice, and quite dishy, but the other could have been a bit more polite to his visitor, especially when that visitor is soon to be his...Oh, well. I suppose one mellows with age." The woman trailed off with a smirk as she continued entering what the Doctor had now realized where space-time coordinates.

His eyes fixed on her watch, dazzled by the artificial lighting. Without thinking he caught her wrist in his hand, interrupting her typing. "Is that a vortex manipulator?" he asked.

"Yep," she said, unfazed by his touch. "Rubbish way to time travel, really, but when you haven't got a TARDIS handy…"

She trailed off again, the click of her long nails returned on the coordinate input filling the silence. After a few more clicks, she clapped her hands together and said, "That should do it." Turning to the Doctor now, she added, "Now don't come trying to follow me at those coordinates, sweetie. You wouldn't want to spoil yourself, now would you?" With that, she touched her hand to his cheek and gave him a quick peck on the lips before stepping back and pressing a button on her vortex manipulator. "See you soon."

She vanished into thin air. Gone. Just as quickly as she had appeared just minutes ago.

Baffled, the Doctor stood unmoving for a long moment, touching his fingertips to his lips in deep, confused thought, until, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jamie watching him from the door. That familiar expression of bewilderment was present in his boyish features, but there was also a clear hint of amusement hidden poorly behind it.

"Jamie!" the Doctor scolded, turning to face him completely. "How long have you been standing there?"

Sniggering, the Scotsman simply responded with, "You positive it isn't a snog box, Doctor?"

As the Time Lord felt blood rush to his cheeks in an odd mixture of embarrassment and rage, he slapped his hand once more against the console, aggravated. Stamping his foot, almost childlike, with each syllable, he bellowed, _"It is NOT a snog box!"_


End file.
